


i want your dreary mondays

by dharmainitiative



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Office, Christmas, Christmas Party, F/M, Pining, Workplace, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:37:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21921163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharmainitiative/pseuds/dharmainitiative
Summary: Bev is unlike anyone else Ben has worked with before in that when she asks you how it’s going she genuinely wants to know the answer, and she cares about her employees but also doesn’t take shit from any of them either.Ben also happens to be embarrassingly in love with her.Or: five times Ben doesn’t ask Bev to the annual Non-Denominational Holiday Office Party, and one time he doesn’t have to.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom & Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 16
Kudos: 59





	i want your dreary mondays

**Author's Note:**

> ben and beverly are my parents so this fic was inevitable and i've always loved both workplace au's and fics that take place at christmastime so here's this one! hope u enjoy
> 
> title from paper rings by taylor swift

one.

It’s the second Monday of the month. Someone in the office started calling them Meeting Mondays, like a cute nickname would make them less boring, but despite how dull and usually uneventful the meetings are, Ben shows up early every second Monday of the month, just in case the meetings run on time for once.

So on the second Monday of November, Ben Hanscom sits in his usual chair, early — as usual — snacking on the donuts Stan Uris from Accounting brought and waiting for Beverly Marsh, who’s late — as usual — to arrive and start the meeting.

When Richie Tozier arrives — about three minutes late, which is also typical — he grabs a donut, slides into his usual seat between Ben and Stan, and announces, “Wouldn’t it be great if Bev showed up on time for these things, just once?”

“Says the guy who’s just gotten here late,” says Bill Denbrough from HR with an eye-roll, but he’s grinning when he says it.

“Yeah, but  _ I’m  _ not the one who sets up the meetings,” Richie shoots back. “If this were my meeting, I’d be here on time. Probably.”

Mike Hanlon, in Accounting, shakes his head in amusement. He opens his mouth — probably to make a joke at Richie’s expense, which is a favorite pastime of everyone at the office — but before he can say anything, Bev breezily enters the meeting room and says, “Tozier, you wouldn’t be on time for something even if I paid you for it.” 

She stops in front of his seat to hand him a stack of agendas for the meeting, and adds, with a teasing smile, “Which I’m pretty sure I do.”

“I was under the impression you hired me for comedic relief,” Richie says, and Bev snorts and sits in her usual seat on Ben’s right as Richie dutifully passes out the meeting agendas.

“So sorry for the inconvenience, everyone,” says Bev Marsh, Head Manager at their branch. She pauses to shoot Richie a look, but there’s no real malice behind it. “Let’s go ahead and start, shall we?”

Work meetings, like Mondays, and paper-cuts, and traffic, are always terrible, but with Richie’s occasional joke, Stan’s donuts, and Bev’s no-nonsense attitude and easy smiles, meetings still feel like  _ work,  _ but not  _ hard  _ work. And anyway, Bev ends this month’s meeting by (finally) announcing the date for this year’s Non-Denominational Holiday Party, which means this meeting is even less terrible than usual. 

The famous (or infamous, depending on which year you’re referring to) party used to be called the annual Christmas party, but when Stan was hired two years ago, the name was changed to The Holiday Party, and when some people in the office got a little too bent out of shape over it — just some interns, who are consistently the worst, honestly — Bev changed the name to “The Non-Denominational Holiday Party,” and always gave a simpering smile every time she said it. The interns quit complaining after that, but the Non-Denominational Holiday Party is what it’s been called ever since.

When the meeting’s over, and everyone’s excitedly murmuring about the party — Ben hears Mike teasing Bill about the ugly Christmas sweater he wears every year, and Bill blushes — Bev turns to him and asks, “Richie didn’t give me too much shit for being late, did he?”

It’s cheesy, and maybe a little embarrassing, but if Ben’s being honest with himself, this part — the inevitable small talk that follows the meeting’s closing, the part that almost makes him forget he’s at work at all — is why he doesn’t  _ really  _ mind Meeting Mondays.

“Nah. And, to be fair, he got here only a couple of minutes before you did.”

Bev rolls her eyes. “He’s lucky he’s got the best sales this month.” Then she props her chin on her hand and asks, “So, how’s your morning going?”

The thing about Bev is that when she asks how you’re doing, she never says it like she’s just making conversation. She says it like she really wants to know the answer. 

Ben swallows. “It’s good,” he says, and then like a moron who can’t think of anything else to say, he adds, “It’s weird that it’s already November, huh?”

“It  _ is  _ weird,” Bev agrees, giving no indication that she thinks he’s a moron. “Do you know what you’re doing for Thanksgiving yet?”

So Ben tells her his plans, and she listens, and he thinks, not for the first time, that Bev is unlike any manager he’s ever worked with. Most managers he’s met try to be your friend and therefore actually get nothing done, or are so intimidating that you’re afraid to approach them at all. But Bev is none of these things. She  _ genuinely _ cares about her employees — taking the time to know their birthdays, asking them about their families, and getting the office to sign a card for them when their work anniversary is coming up — but she doesn’t take any shit from them, either. She works hard, and she cares, and she keeps everyone in line because she always has the company’s best interests at heart. 

Richie would be offended if Ben ever admitted it, but Bev is probably the best person he’s ever worked with. 

Ben also happens to be embarrassingly in love with her.

\--

Ben has been working for Derry for almost five years now. He started out in sales, but after the corporation saw how hard of a worker he was, he got promoted to Assistant Manager.  It’s not his dream job, necessarily — when he was a kid, he always imagined he’d grow up to be an architect. But it’s not a bad job for someone in his early 30’s, and it pays well, and more importantly, he likes it. He’s never had many friends before — he was fat as a kid and got bullied a lot, and even after he lost the weight, he was still so awkward and quiet that no one really wanted to hang out with him in high school or college, either.

At Derry, it’s different. The people he works with are an odd bunch, to be sure, and they all have their own little quirks, but they welcomed him with open enthusiasm when he was hired all the same. He’d always thought it was bullshit when people called the people they worked with their family, but at Derry he truly feels a sense of belonging that he’s never really felt anywhere else. He gets lunch with Richie almost once a week, exchanges movie recommendations with Bill regularly, and he’s even in a book club with Mike.

And then there’s Bev, who he had of course liked immediately when he was hired. Just like everyone else, she was extremely welcoming and kind, and he couldn’t help but admire her hard work and dedication for her job. And he’d tried to ignore it, but he’d always known she was beautiful — they’re coworkers, but he’s not  _ blind.  _ But it wasn’t until he was promoted to Assistant Manager and started working more closely with her that he realized he had genuine feelings for her. 

At first, it was no big deal. Bev was beautiful, and smart, and kind, and it was only natural for Ben to feel attracted to her. But when the feelings of attraction never really dimmed, Ben started to worry. If anything, his feelings only got stronger, and then evolved, and then after months of brainstorming on projects together, grabbing lunch for each other, and working after hours to make sure all the paperwork was done on time, it hit Ben suddenly that he’d fallen in love with Bev without meaning to.

It’s a little inconvenient, being in love with someone you work with, sure. But Ben tries not to let it get in the way of work. It usually doesn’t, surprisingly, which is probably because Ben has never actually expected anything to come out of it. Sure, it’d be great if he found out Bev returned his feelings, but that kind of stuff happens in Hallmark movies, and not in real life. Loving Bev in secret, and from afar, is something he’s so used to that it feels second nature to him now, and he’s fine with that. Really, he is.

Which is why he’s so surprised when he stops to check on Richie at his desk, and Richie suggests, oh-so-casually, “You should ask Bev to be your date to the Non-Denominational Holiday Party.”

Eddie Kaspbrak from the IT department, who’s on the floor examining Richie’s computer, nearly bumps his head on Richie’s desk to peer up at Ben. “Wait, what? Why?’

“Because I’m tired of watching him make heart-eyes at her every time she walks in the room,” Richie says, like it’s nothing.

Ben feels his face burn as Eddie giggles. “You like Bev? That’s cute.”

“Announce it to the whole office, why don’t you?” Ben says to Richie weakly.

“I might as well, with how obvious you are about it,” Richie says. Eddie giggles again, and Richie stops ruining Ben’s life to momentarily grin down at him. 

Despite the fact that Eddie Kaspbrak works in a completely different department, on a completely different floor, Ben sees him almost daily, because Richie is always calling him up to fix whatever happens to be wrong with his computer that day. The thing is, Ben has secretly wondered, at least once or twice, if Richie pretends there’s something wrong with his computer just for an excuse to call Eddie up and annoy him for half an hour.

He’s never had the heart to ask, though.

“Seriously, though, I think it  _ is _ kind of sweet you have a crush on Bev,” Eddie says now as he turns to fiddle with Richie’s computer again. “You should ask her, Ben.”

“I’m  _ not  _ asking her,” Ben stammers out while frantically looking around and hoping Bev isn’t nearby to overhear. “I’m not even — I don’t even really have a crush on her,” he says, hoping he sounds convincing, but Richie just raises his eyebrows. Defeated, Ben sighs. “How did you figure it out?”

“Did you miss the part where I said your heart eyes could be seen from space?” Richie asks, and Ben rolls his eyes. “Besides, I’m  _ pretty  _ sure I’m probably your best friend, so it’s kinda my job to know this kind of stuff.”

Richie isn’t Ben’s best friend, necessarily, but he’s probably the closest thing he has to a best friend, so he doesn’t argue. And just as he’s going to further insist that there’s no way he’s asking Bev to be his date to the Non-Denominational Holiday Party — because seriously, what is Richie  _ thinking  _ — Eddie crawls out from under Richie’s desk and announces, “Fixed it!”

Richie places his hand over his heart and says, dramatically, “My hero.”

“Shut up,” Eddie snaps, but Ben can see from where he’s standing that the back of his neck is turning red. “If you were that appreciative, you’d stop fucking up your computer every day so I can get real work done instead of having to fix your shit all the time.”

“But then I’d miss out on watching you work your special IT magic,” Richie says, faking a pout.

“Shut up,” Eddie says again, with an eye-roll this time, but his ears are starting to burn too when he turns and walks back to the IT department.

“So,” Richie says after Eddie’s left. “The party. You sure you don’t want to ask her? Because I’m pretty sure you should. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She says no, for one thing,” Ben reminds him.

Richie shrugs. “Live a little, Benjamin.”

It’s easy for Richie, who probably lives  _ more  _ than little, to say, so he adds, “There’s also the fact that we work together.”

“So do Stan and Patty, and they’re going together,” Richie points out.

He has a point there. He opens his mouth to argue further, but when he can’t think of anything to say, closes it. Finally, he asks, hesitantly, “You really think I should ask her?”

“Dude.  _ Yes, _ ” Richie says emphatically. “I’m so tired of your heterosexual shenanigans I’m ready to blow my brains out. Please, for my sake,  _ ask her. _ ”

It’s unnecessarily dramatic, as most things are when it comes to Richie Tozier, but there’s something about Richie’s expression that makes Ben think that deep down, he’s actually  _ serious.  _ He genuinely believes, for whatever reason, that he should ask Bev to be his date to the Non-Denominational Holiday Party. 

And Ben learned long ago that Richie has surprisingly good judgment. So maybe that’s what makes him finally sigh and say, “I’ll think about it.”

two.

Ben does not think about it.

Or he does, a little bit, but only in an abstract way, because once Ben asks Bev he has to wait for an answer, and the idea of her actually saying yes is so crazy that he has a difficult time imagining what an honest-to-God romantic date with Bev at the Non-Denominational Holiday would actually look like.

The thing is, he likes where he’s at with Bev right now. He likes that he has someone who has his coffee order memorized, who’s always down to order Taco Bell through Uber Eats, and who’s always there to exchange amused glances with him when Richie drinks a few too many beers at the company Super Bowl party. Things are  _ good  _ — so good, in fact, that he almost feels like it’d be selfish to ask for more.

That’s part of the reason, at least. The other part is that Ben Hanscom is a bit of a coward, but nobody else needs to know that.

But on Monday, a week after the meeting and the announcement of the Non-Denominational Holiday Party, when work is piling up and it’s looking like Ben and Bev are staying in the office after hours again to get paperwork done, Richie shoots Ben a thumbs up as he’s leaving, and he looks so genuinely earnest that for a second he thinks he might ask Bev, after all.

The perfect time to ask strikes almost an hour after everyone’s left, when they’re about halfway done. They’re sitting together in the conference room, their chairs so close that Bev’s knee brushes Ben’s every time she shifts in her seat, and the room is quiet as they flip through their paperwork. Only a minute ago Bev broke the silence to make a joke about how if they’re lucky, they might be through with the paperwork before the Christmas, and it’s the perfect segue for Ben to finally take a chance and ask about the party.

So he sets down his pen and clears his throat until Bev looks up, and just as he swallows and opens his mouth to ask, his stomach growls. 

So instead he ends up asking, “Do you wanna order take-out?”

“God yes,” Bev says immediately, so Ben dials the number for their favorite Japanese place, and the subject of the Non-Denominational Holiday Party is quickly dropped.

When the food is delivered they shove all of the paperwork out of the way and make jokes about their clients over bites of Teriyaki chicken, and Ben tries very hard not to watch Bev too closely. He’s used to this — used to pretending not to notice the things he shouldn’t be noticing in the first place — but it’s harder in the conference room, which feels more intimate when it’s dimmer and emptier, and there’s something extra captivating about Bev’s vibrant laugh, or the animated way she tells a story.

She’s in the middle of a story about the client she had to deal with over the phone earlier that day when her phone rings. She glances at the caller ID, and for a brief second, her mouth tugs down into a frown.

Ben frowns too. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just...hang on one second, I’ve gotta take this.”

She gives him an apologetic smile as she answers, and then steps out of the conference room, gently closing the door behind her. Ben turns back to his food and tries not to worry or wonder who Bev is talking to — because seriously, it’s none of his business — and when she comes back into the conference room, she’s smiling, but her smile is a little dimmer than before.

“Sorry,” she says, sliding back into her seat and stabbing at a piece of chicken, and there’s an awkward moment of silence where Ben wonders if he’s supposed to ask what’s going on or if he should mind his own business. Finally, Bev makes the decision for him when she says, “That was my divorce lawyer.”

“Oh,” Ben says. 

He knew Bev was in the process of getting divorced, but he doesn’t know much about her ex, or the situation, aside from what he’s observed. She’s been a little different, ever since she filed for separation. It’s a better different, mostly — she’s quicker to smile, or make a joke, and she gets less antsy at the end of the work day before everyone goes home. But sometimes Ben thinks he still sees a hint of sadness or anxiety in her expression, and sometimes she starts frowning without seemingly any reason. 

“Is...everything okay?” He asks.

Bev shrugs, and makes a face. “Kind of?” Ben waits. “My lawyer is great, and she’s doing the best she can, but my ex is...well, he’s angry that I filed for divorce. Which means he’s not being very compliant in the proceedings, and he’s not all that willing to sign all the proper paperwork, which means I’m basically fighting an uphill battle.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben says, and he doesn’t think it’s enough, but Bev smiles gratefully at him anyway. “That must be hard.”

“It is hard,” Bev agrees. “But it’s also worth it. Tom wasn’t…” She looks down, and then says, quieter, “He wasn’t a good man.”

Ben’s mind suddenly flashes back to almost a year ago, when Bev had come into work in a jacket even though it was June, and almost 90 degrees outside. At one point she’d rolled up the sleeves of her jacket and Ben had looked down long enough to notice a bruise on the inside of her wrist. But when he’d looked over a second time, Bev’s sleeves had been rolled back down, and the bruise was out of sight.

He hadn’t asked about it then, but now, hearing her almost admission, he wishes that he had.

“You don’t have to tell me about it,” Ben tells her honestly.

“I know,” Bev says. “I would, though. If you asked.”

“I know,” Ben says, and surprisingly, it's true. 

Weirdly, he begins to think about the memes based off of that quote from Tim Kreider in his New York Times essay about the mortifying ordeal of being known.  But the smile Bev gives him after his response makes him feel like maybe the ordeal isn’t so mortifying after all, and fills him with a sense of warmth that lasts until he drives home that night.

He almost forgets about the Non-Denominational Holiday Party at all, until he stops by Richie’s desk the next day to ask if he’s printed out the sales reports yet.

“Not yet,” Richie says, then, “You asked Bev to be your date for the party yet?”

Ben immediately goes red, and then looks around the office to make sure they’re not being overheard. Once he’s certain, he mumbles, “No.”

“What? Why?”

There’s a lot of reasons  _ why _ — mainly, that the entire thing slipped his mind — but Ben just shrugs in response.

Richie groans. “I don’t understand why you can’t just put me out of my misery, man. You think I enjoy the lovesick puppy dog act?”  Ben splutters indignantly, but before he can get out a response, he continues, “I just don’t know what the issue is. I mean, she’s single now, right?”

She is, and this, by all accounts, should be a good thing for him. But when he thinks about the weary resignation in Bev’s voice last night when she’d brought up her divorce, he knows deep down that it’s not that simple.

“She’s single, yeah,” Ben hedges. “But I don’t know if that’s a good enough reason to ask her to go with me to the party. I mean, it just doesn’t totally feel right to ask her and take advantage of something that brought her a lot of pain, you know?”

Richie is quiet for a moment. “Huh,” he finally says. “You really like her, don’t you?”

Ben’s face burns. “Shut up,” he mutters.

Richie sighs. “Look, I get it. You don’t wanna overstep, or do something she’s not ready for, or whatever. But seriously? You should go for it. She might say yes.”

He does sound serious, is the thing, but Ben still narrows his eyes in suspicion. “How do you know?”

“I just know,” Richie shrugs. “Has no one yet told you that I’m practically a genius?”

“I must’ve missed that memo,” Ben says with an eye-roll, and Richie laughs and sips from his cup of Starbucks coffee. “Dude, did you get Starbucks  _ again?  _ You already had a cup this morning.”

Richie suddenly becomes very interested with his computer. “No.”

Ben raises his eyebrows. “So this second Starbucks cup just magically appeared?”

“If you  _ must  _ know,” Richie begins, defensive, and then continues in a quieter voice, “Eddie brought this for me.”

“I see,” Ben says, trying not to let any judgment slip into his voice. Richie busies himself with staring at his keyboard. “And what was wrong with your computer today, exactly?”

Richie looks up at Ben and glares, and for a second, Ben  _ almost  _ doesn’t say it. It’s a little rude, and it’s definitely uncalled for. But because Richie doesn’t seem to have any problems with meddling in Ben’s love life, he doesn’t quite feel bad about saying, “Maybe I’ll ask Bev to the Non-Denominational Holiday Party if you ask Eddie.”

It’s worth it for the look of utter shock on Richie’s face. He nearly drops his coffee shop.

“What the  _ fuck, _ ” Richie splutters out, and Ben tries to hold back a snort but doesn’t quite manage it. “How could you even — I don’t — Eddie is like, a major pain in my ass, first of all, so the fact that you would even  _ imply —  _ ”

But Ben is outright laughing now, while Richie just glares at him miserably.

“I hate you, do you know that?” Richie tells him, angrily turning back to his computer and tapping loudly at his keyboard. Ben isn’t even sure if he’s typing out actual words. “You’re the worst. I can’t believe I was ever led to believe you were the  _ nice  _ one in this office, Jesus Christ. See if I ever give you relationship advice again.”

“Love you too, Trashmouth,” Ben says, clapping Richie on the shoulder, but he just glares at Ben until he heads back to his office.

  
  
  
  


three.

A little less than two weeks before the Non-Denominational Holiday Party, Ben sits at his desk eating the pasta he packed for lunch today, listening to his audiobook. Most of the rest of the office goes out for lunch, and Ben usually does too, but he’d picked a healthier option for today.  Besides, his book is just getting to the good part, and sometimes it’s best to listen to those parts alone. One time when he was grocery shopping while listening to an audiobook, he shouted out loud in reaction to the book’s plot twist, and nearly gave the cashier checking out his items a heart attack.

The climax is just getting ready to unfold when suddenly someone knocks on the door to his office, and he taps the pause button on his phone in annoyance. He’s maybe a little less annoyed when the door opens and he realizes it’s just Bev, though.

“Hey,” Ben says, and Bev smiles back. “I thought you were going out to lunch?”

“Nah, I’m still working on a project, so I got something to go,” Bev says as she approaches his desk. “But also, I got you this.”

She gently sets down a brown paper bag, and Ben raises his eyebrows at it, and then looks back up at her, expectant. 

“Open it,” she urges, so Ben does.

Inside the bag is a vanilla cupcake with blue icing.

“I…” Ben says, blinks, and then looks back up at Bev, who’s watching him carefully. “Thank you?”

“It’s a cupcake,” Bev says, like that wasn’t obvious. “For your work anniversary. Which is today. Did you forget?”

Ben didn’t forget — it’s written in on his desk calendar, actually, and Mike, who’s overly kind and conscientious about these things, already wished him a happy work anniversary earlier that morning.

“I didn’t forget,” Ben says. “I’m just...kinda surprised that you remembered?”

“Well yeah,” Bev says — again, like it’s obvious. “I mean, you added it to your desk calendar.”

Ben is quiet, staring thoughtfully at his cupcake, because there’s a lot to unpack here. Bev remembered it was his work anniversary, apparently, and apparently she also notices the little doodles and important events scribbled on his desk calendar, and on top of that, she apparently  _ also  _ remembers that Ben’s favorite flavor of cupcake is vanilla.

Bev clears her throat. “Anyway. The icing is buttercream, obviously. Because I’m a classy bitch.”

“Obviously,” Ben repeats, but he barely hears himself speak because this is a lot to take in. Sure, maybe it’s not that weird that she remembered his work anniversary, because Bev usually does remember that sort of thing. But for Stan’s work anniversary last month she’d just gotten him a card, which, in Ben’s honest opinion, is not exactly the same as a vanilla cupcake with buttercream icing.

Bev tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and then changes her mind and lets it fall in front of her face again. “Well, anyway, I should head back to my desk and get to work. But seriously, happy anniversary. Five years, right? That’s a huge accomplishment. Enjoy the cupcake.”

“Thanks. You too,” Ben says, then flushes. “Wait, I mean — ”

“I know what you meant,” Bev says with a gentle smile, and the little voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like Richie Tozier whispers,  _ Ask her!  _

For the first time, Ben starts to wonder if Richie has been right this whole time. It’s  _ probably  _ nothing — after all, it’s just a cupcake. But it’s also Ben’s  _ favorite  _ kind of cupcake, that Bev picked up during her lunch break, even though she could’ve spent that time eating her lunch or working on her probably very important project. For the first time, Ben thinks maybe asking Bev to be his date to the Non-Denominational Holiday Party wouldn’t be such a stupid idea after all.

So for a brief moment, Ben entertains the thought of asking. But then that thought is outweighed by all the reasons he shouldn’t ask right now. Maybe the moment isn’t right after all, maybe he needs to let Bev get back to her work, or maybe he’s just putting way too much thought into a cupcake. 

Or maybe, just maybe, Ben is scared, and maybe a part of him always will be. Maybe, deep down, he’s still that fat kid in elementary school who didn’t have any friends, who was picked last for sports teams in gym class, and who all the girls were scared to get cooties from. Maybe, deep down, he always will be that kid.

So Instead, Ben looks up, smiles, and says, “Thanks, Bev.”

Bev smiles again, and then closes herself in her office while Ben eats his cupcake in silence.

He forgets about his audiobook after that, and by the time he remembers it, Richie is already back from lunch. He doesn’t say anything to Ben when he enters the office — apparently he’s learned his lesson — but when he walks by Ben’s office, he stops in the doorway and looks across the room at Bev’s office door, pointedly. 

Ben just shakes his head at him, and Richie groans and heads to his desk.

Ben reasons that it’s not as big a deal as Richie makes it out to be. It’s not like he’s wasted his last opportunity, or anything like that. The party is still almost two weeks away; that’s plenty of time to make up his mind on whether he wants to ask her or not.

_ I’ll ask her later,  _ Ben tells himself.  _ For real this time. _

And with that reassuring thought, he returns to his work.

  
  
  
  
  


four.

A week before the Non-Denominational Holiday Party, Ben still hasn’t asked Bev to be his date.

It’s never the right time — there’s too much work to do, or Bev looks too busy, or whatever excuse Ben manages to come up with at the last minute. Despite all of this, Ben wakes up and every morning and gets ready for work and thinks to himself, “Today. Today, I’ll ask her.” And every day he leaves the office without once bringing up the Non-Denominational Holiday Party.

That Thursday is no different. Ben thinks about bringing up the Non-Denominational Holiday Party several times, but chickens out every time at the last minute, so by the time he and Bev are closing up the office and walking to their cars, it’s too late.

All thoughts of the Non-Denominational Holiday Party are forgotten, however, when Bev knocks on the passenger window of Ben’s car.

Ben hurriedly pauses his audiobook and rolls the window down. “Everything okay?”

“My car won’t start,” Bev groans.

Ben crosses the parking lot with her to check under the hood, but he admittedly doesn’t know much about cars. This is really a job for Mike — or maybe even Stan, who seems to somehow always be prepared for any disaster. But Ben, who doesn’t have any jumper cables in his car, shuts the car hood with a frown.

“I was going to replace the battery soon,” Bev insists, frustrated. “I just kept getting so busy, and then of  _ course  _ I misplaced my jumper cables — ”

“It’s okay, really,” Ben says. “I don’t even know if I’d know how to jump your car off on my own, anyway.”

Bev looks over at him and raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know how to jump a car off?”

“I could learn,” Ben says, defensive. “If I watched like, a YouTube video or something.”

Bev just shakes her head, but she’s grinning. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you sometime.”

Ben looks away, clears his throat, and tries  _ very hard  _ not to blush. “So, uh, I guess you need a ride?”

She blinks. “Oh, you don’t have to — ”

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal,” He says, because it’s not. He’s been to Bev’s once or twice, so he’s pretty sure he remembers how to get there from the office. It’s not like she’s all that far, anyway, so he won’t even be going out of his way. So after a few minutes of debate, Bev finally agrees to let Ben take her home — if only with the condition that she’ll ask Bill, who lives a few houses down, for a ride in the morning. 

The drive to Bev’s is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Ben’s spent so much time with Bev at this point that it almost feels like nothing in their relationship could be truly uncomfortable, at least not anymore. So after Ben turns on the radio, Bev makes a joke about how she’s surprised he’s not listening to an audiobook, and aside from the occasional humming along to whatever Christmas song is playing, they ride to Bev’s in companionable silence.

That silence is broken when Ben pulls into her driveway and Bev says immediately, “Shit.”

Ben glances over, startled, but Bev doesn’t look back. Instead, she sits in the passenger seat, rigid, gaze fixed on her front porch, where a man stands, leaning against the post.

It’s too dark for Ben to tell who the man is, and he doesn’t think he’d recognize him even if was light enough outside to make out the man’s features. But despite that, Ben has a bad feeling, and he thinks he might know who the man is, anyway.

“Bev,” Ben says softly. “Is that…?”

But he doesn’t finish his question, and Bev doesn’t answer it. Instead, she pulls her phone out of her purse, quickly dials a number, and presses the call button. It’s not until he hears her calmly stating her address into the phone that Ben realizes she’s talking to the police.

“Bev,” he says again, placing a hand on her arm. “Do I need to — ”

“Shh,” Bev interrupts him, sharply but not unkindly. Then, into the phone, “Hello? Yes, I just got home from work to find my ex-husband on my property, violating his restraining order. It’s late, he’s probably drunk, which isn't a good sign, so — ” Ben makes out the voice of the dispatcher on the other line, but doesn't quite know what they're saying. “Yes, I’m safe. How soon can they get here, again?” Bev pauses to listen again. “Okay. Thank you.”

Bev hangs up, and the companionable silence of Ben’s car is erased by the sound of his heart hammering a mile a minute. But aside from the rigid line in her shoulders, Bev looks and sounds completely composed. Almost like this isn’t even a surprise for her. Like it’s a situation she’s used to.

_ Jesus Christ,  _ Ben thinks.

“They’ll be here soon,” Bev says, still watching the front porch. The man hasn’t moved from his spot, slouched against the post. She inhales deeply, then turns to Ben. “Just...wait here, okay?”

Before he can respond, she unclips her seatbelt and climbs out of the car. Her movements are slow, like she’s approaching an animal and not a human being.

Without even thinking, Ben climbs out of the car, too.

“Bev,” Tom says. He’s still on the porch, but he’s standing up straight now, no longer slumping. “You’re home.”

“Tom,” Bev says, and she sounds fine — casual, even — but her mouth tightens. “This is my home, remember?”

Tom laughs. It's a nasty sound. “ _ Fuck  _ that. I lived here for over five years, it's my home just as much as — ” 

“Tom,” Bev says again, louder this time. “You need to leave. You're violating the restraining order, and I’ve already called the cops. If they get here — ”

“The cops?” He laughs again, and stumbles down the porch steps. Bev flinches. “Like they can do shit to me at my fucking h— ” He stops suddenly, and fixes his eyes on Ben, like he’s just now noticing him. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Tom,” Bev says warningly. “You need to leave.”

Tom ignores this in favor of scrutinizing Ben — almost glaring at him, really. He takes a few steps towards them. In unison, Ben and Bev take a few steps back.

“Do I need to take you somewhere else?” Ben hisses at her, but Bev doesn't respond.

“Hey, man. I’m talking to you,” Tom says, aggression creeping into his voice. Ben doesn’t answer. Instead, he keeps looking at Bev, who won’t quite look back at him, almost like she’s scared to see the look on his face. Ben frowns to himself, because seriously, if she really thinks he’s going to judge her over  _ this,  _ then —

“Hey!” Tom shouts, and Ben finally looks at him. “You think you can just ignore me? Who the fuck are you?” Bev takes another step back, and Ben instinctively takes a step in front of her, and Tom’s eyes snap back over to her. Something like realization crosses his face. “Holy shit. This is him, isn’t it?”

“Tom — ”

“This is the asshole you cheated on me with.” If Tom was angry before, he’s furious now. “Fuck, Bev, I can’t believe — ”

“Tom,” Bev interrupts, and even though her voice wavers this time, Ben doesn’t think he’s ever heard her sound more defiant. “I  _ never  _ cheated on you.”

Tom shakes his head, a nasty smile on his face. “You’re a terrible fucking liar, Bev, you know that?”

He steps forward again — too close, and in Bev’s direction, specifically, this time. Ben steps completely in front of her now, and Tom takes a small step back, almost like he’s surprised.

“You need to seriously leave.” He almost doesn’t recognize his own voice, but Tom winces at the threat all the same. “Because if the cops show up and you’re still here, I don’t think it’s gonna end well for you.”

“I’m supposed to believe that bitch really called the cops?” Tom snorts. “We were together for  _ years  _ before she ever called those fuckers. You know why? Because Bev is a pussy, and she always will b—”

Ben doesn’t realize he’s punched Tom until Bev screams and Tom’s down on the ground, holding a hand over his bloody nose. But Ben only has a second to be surprised, because when Tom moves his hand he looks  _ murderous,  _ and for a moment Ben is very, very scared.

Tom leaps off the ground, Ben leaps back, and Bev grips his arm and raises her own as if to ward Tom off. But she never gets the chance, because the next second Ben sees flashing red and blue lights pull around the corner, and a police car pulls into Bev’s driveway.

Things happen very quickly after that. The first police officer out of the car grabs Tom and drags him away, and the other police officer pulls Bev aside to take her statement, and then does the same with Ben next. And once the police have put Tom in handcuffs and shoved him in the back of the car, they drive away, and Ben takes a seat next to Bev, who’s been sitting on the front porch for some time now, a faraway look in her eyes.

They’re silent for a long time. Not a companionable and comfortable silence this time, either, because Ben knows he should say  _ something,  _ but he can’t quite figure out what to say.

He’s still thinking it over when Bev asks, without looking at him, “How’s your hand?”

Ben looks down. The bleeding’s stopped, and it still stings a little, but the ice pack he’s got pressed against his knuckles makes it sting a little less. “Not too bad,” he tells her, which is mostly the truth.

Bev glances down at his hand, and her mouth pulls down into a frown. “You didn’t have to get out of the car, you know. I could’ve handled it by myself.” 

“I know,” Ben says, because he does. “But you don’t have to.” 

Bev makes a sound that Ben isn’t sure is a laugh or a sigh. “God,” she mutters, burying her face in her hands. For a moment, Ben worries that she’s crying, but when she lifts her head to finally look at him, her eyes are dry. 

He’s not sure what he’s expecting her to say. It’s certainly not, “I’m sorry.”

“What? What are you sorry for?”

Bev does laugh this time. “Are you kidding me?” Ben blinks at her, and she shakes her head. “I don’t know, everything? I’m sorry you hurt your hand, I’m sorry driving me home resulted in an arrest, I’m sorry I’m so much of a mess...take your pick.”

“Bev,” Ben says gently. “None of that was your fault.”

Bev chews her bottom lip and looks away.

“Look, I…” Ben says. “I don’t know what all is going on with you and Tom and your situation, and I’m not going to pretend like I understand what you’re going through. But you know what I think?”

Bev brushes hair out of her face. “I’m almost afraid to find out, honestly.”

“I think you were really brave tonight,” Ben tells her honestly. Bev makes a face at him and looks back down at her knees. “Bev, I’m serious. I was scared shitless back there, but you just stood your ground the whole time. And for you to even get out of your car and stand up to him in the first place...I don’t think you’re a mess at all. I think if anything, being able to do all of that tonight despite whatever shit you’ve been through — ”

He breaks off, because suddenly the look in Bev’s face as she watches him...there’s something in her expression he’s never seen before, something almost intense, something Ben doesn’t dare hope to name. So instead he clears his throat and finishes, lamely, “I don’t know. I think you’re really strong.”

Bev smiles at him. It’s a kind of smile that’s hard to describe, but there’s something gentle and grateful and beautiful about it. It’s a smile Ben’s going to think about for a long time.

The moment is broken when she leans towards him to knock their shoulders against each other. “Don’t sell yourself short, Hanscom. You’re pretty strong, too.” Ben chuckles. “I’m serious! You punched the shit out of him. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I didn’t either, to be honest,” Ben admits, and Bev laughs.

They sit on Bev’s front porch talking for far longer than they should, but Ben can’t quite bring himself to leave. There’s something intimate about their quiet laughter, Bev’s hand on his arm, and the way their knees brush together, so that by the time Ben finally does leave, he feels almost lonely on the drive home.

He doesn’t ask about the Non-Denominational Holiday Party that night, not once. He doesn’t even think about it until he’s getting ready for bed later that night. The events of the night were so intimate and personal, that it wouldn’t have been the right time — legitimately, this time, not just as an excuse. 

But thinking over the events of the night as he’s getting for bed, it’s the first time Ben  _ really  _ lets himself believe that if he did ask Bev, she might would really say yes.

  
  
  
  
  


five.

“I’m going to ask her,” Ben announces at Richie’s desk the next morning.

“Jesus Christ,” Richie jumps, turning away from the computer to shoot Ben an annoyed look. “Would a ‘Good morning, Richie,’ not have sufficed?”

“I’m going to ask her,” Ben repeats, and smiles, despite himself. “Bev, I mean. To the Non-Denominational Holiday Party.”

“Seriously?” Richie’s eyes widen, and then he reaches up and claps Ben on the shoulder. “That’s awesome, man!”

Richie’s smile and genuine enthusiasm fills Ben with a warm feeling, and he thinks, not for the first time, about how lucky he is to work at a place with such unique but genuinely good people. It also occurs to him that, despite the fact he can be a major asshole, Richie Tozier is a really good friend, and Ben should tell him that more often.

“What’s with the sudden determination?” Richie asks, interrupting his inner monologue on friendship, and gesturing assumedly to Ben’s over-excitement.

Ben opens his mouth to explain the previous night, then closes it after he realizes a lot of that was personal, and that he maybe shouldn’t be airing Bev’s personal information out to her employees. Fortunately, Ben is saved from having to come up with a censored version of the story by Eddie Kaspbrak arriving at Richie’s desk and asking, “So, what’s wrong with your computer now?”

“Oh, nothing really,” Richie says easily. “I just wanted to see that cute little face.”

Ben tries unsuccessfully to hold back a snort as Eddie turns a brilliant shade of red. “What the fuck?” Richie beams up at him, and Eddie scoffs. “Don’t call me cute, we’re fucking 35 years old.”

“Oh, hey, speaking of cute,” Richie segues, “Ben is gonna finally ask Bev to be his date to the Non-Denominational Holiday Party.”

He says it at the same time Stan walks by, which, of course, means Stan overhears the entire thing and comes to an abrupt stop. 

“Wait, seriously? Way to go, Ben!” Stan smiles brilliantly at him and pats him on the shoulder, but there’s no surprise in his expression, so Ben wonders if his office crush has been evident to _ everyone _ , not just Richie. Still, Ben tries to smile back while simultaneously giving Richie a dirty look.

Eddie, meanwhile, has an odd look on his face. Before Ben can ask what’s wrong, he’s turning to Richie and blurts, “Hey, we should go to that.”

“What?” Richie asks, sipping at his morning coffee.

“To the Non-Denominational Office Holiday party.”

Richie looks up from his coffee. “Uh...yeah, dude, we both got invitations.” He blinks. “Were you, like, not already planning on going, or…?”

Ben watches Eddie blush, but his face is less angry red and more an embarrassed and hesitant pink. “I meant we should go  _ together,  _ dipshit.”

Richie drops his Starbucks coffee cup right on the carpeted floor. Even Mike, who works almost on the other side of the office, looks up.

“Are you serious?” Richie manages.

Eddie is  _ scarlet  _ now. He drops his eyes to the floor. “It was just an idea, you don’t have to — ”

“No, we’re going together, fuck off,” Richie says quickly.

Eddie laughs outright at that. “Okay, cool,” he says, a little awkwardly, but he doesn’t look so hesitant anymore. “Uh, it’s a date then.”

Richie’s mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

“I think you broke him,” Ben informs Eddie, who laughs again.

“Seriously,” Stan agrees. “This is the longest I’ve ever seen him quiet.”

“It’s been thirty seconds,” Eddie argues.

“Exactly.”

“Okay, I’ve really got to get back to work,” Eddie says. “Because I have clients who actually have things wrong with their computers, not just clients who make up problems to annoy me, so. I’ll just text you later, okay, Richie?”

“Okay,” Richie says, a little dazedly, and Eddie rolls his eyes, but he’s still blushing when he leaves.

“Did I miss something?” Mike jumps in, leaning against the other end of Richie’s desk and glancing concernedly down at the coffee stain now darkening the carpet.

“Just Eddie asking Richie to be his date for the Non-Denominational Holiday Party,” Ben explains.

Mike raises his eyebrows. “Seriously?” Ben and Stan nod. “Well, about time.”

“Right?” Stan says.

Ben laughs, and Richie apparently finds the ability to speak again, because he sputters out, “Was everyone already aware of me being super into Eddie? Because for the record, I thought I was being really subtle about it.”

“You wouldn’t know subtlety if hit you with a train,” Stan deadpans, and Richie flips him off.

“Not that I’m not happy for you guys finally figuring your shit out, but does everyone have a date to this thing except me?” Mike asks, almost pouting.

“Wait, who else has a date?”

“Stan is bringing Patty,” Mike says, and Stan nods in confirmation and smiles and flushes a little to himself, which is super cute, and something Richie is definitely going to give him shit for later. “And I think Bill asked Bev this morning.”

Ben freezes. “What?”

“Yeah, he told me he drove her to work this morning because her car battery died last night, and they got to talking about how neither of them had a date, so he suggested they go together, and she said yes.” Mike frowns. “It’s kind of weird, because I didn’t even know he was interested in — well.” He coughs, cutting himself off. “Anyway. It’s none of my business. I’m sure they’ll have a great time.”

Stan’s eyebrows furrow together. “But wait, I thought Ben — ”

“ _ Anyway, _ ” Richie says loudly, shooting Stan a look. Stan shuts his mouth closed with an audible click. “What a turn of events! I’m sure we are all very happy for our friends Bill and Bev! Right?”

“Right,” Stan says quickly, and Ben tries to smile in agreement, but from the way Richie looks at him, it probably more closely resembles a grimace.

Mike gives all three of them weird looks, then says slowly, “Right...anyway...Stan, do you wanna head back to our desks? So we can do actual work instead of shooting the breeze about our coworkers’ love lives?”

“Not really,” Stan says, but dutifully follows Mike back to their desks anyway.

When they’re alone, Richie spins his chair to face Ben and frowns. “I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s fine,” Ben hears himself say, and it should be, really, because he’s always known that his feelings for Bev were one-sided, and he had contented himself to loving her from afar for this reason. Getting his hopes up about something like this was always going to be a stupid idea, so he has no one to blame but himself for the crushing disappointment he’s feeling right now.

Richie frowns further. “Maybe they’re just going as friends?”

It’s possible, because Ben has never gotten any indication that there was anything romantic between Bill and Bev. But at the same time, he knows Bill Denbrough. He’s brave, and strong, and kind, and anyone would be lucky to have him — Bev included. And how can Ben, who’s always been awkward and lonely, and who’s idea of an exciting night is eating instant mac and cheese and watching Netflix with his dog, compare to something like that?

Besides, it doesn’t matter if they’re just going as friends. At the end of the day, Bill asked Bev first, and even if Bev isn’t interested in Bill like that, it doesn’t mean that she’s interested in Ben, either.

Still, last night, he’d really thought for a moment that…

Ben shakes himself out of his thoughts, and smiles at Richie in a way that he hopes is reassuring. “Rich, seriously. It’s fine. I can get over it. I’m a big boy, remember?”

Richie blinks. “Was that supposed to be a reference to your dick?”

Ben goes red, much to Richie’s delight.

“Beep beep, Richie,” Ben mutters, whacking Richie lightly on the shoulder, and then he heads off to his office to try to throw himself into his work, because the only other option is to spend the rest of the day feeling sorry for himself. 

And really, he has too much to do for that.

  
  
  
  
  


\+ one.

Ben is fine. Really, he is. He goes to work every morning, chats with his coworkers, and tries to keep his conversations with Bev strictly work-related. And if he spends every day dreading the Non-Denominational Holiday Party, which grows closer every day, and goes home after work every night and watches _Love Actually_ only to cry during the part where Emma Thompson unwraps the Joni Mitchell CD, no one has to know.

The Non-Denominational Holiday Party is actually a lot of fun, is the thing. At least, it usually is —  the company always rents out one of the side rooms in the restaurant near the office, and Mike and Bev usually go the extra mile by covering the room in tinsel and garlands and Christmas lights, and there's always a beautifully decorated tree set up in the corner of the room. The food is always great, too: Bill always brings the turkey, and Stan makes these great little hors d'oeuvres, and Mike's double fudge cake is to die for. 

The dress code varies from semi-formal to ugly and tacky, which should be a weird mix but for some reason, never really is. For example, this year Eddie arrives  looking really nice in a red button-up and slacks, and Stan and Richie are wearing matching Hanukkah sweaters, which means Ben gets to amusedly watch Richie get flustered any time he's in close proximity to Eddie, which is most of the night.

It should be a nice time, by all accounts, because there's good food and good friends. And everyone looks so _happy,_ too — Stan twirls Patty around on the dance floor to _White Christmas_ by the Drifters, and Richie looks at Eddie like he hung the moon when he thinks Eddie's not looking. And Ben is happy watching them — he is, really — but it's hard, because it makes him feel lonely, too. Especially when he sees Bill and Bev together.

He tries not to pay too much attention to the two of them together, because he doesn't hate himself _that_ much. This is a pretty easy task to accomplish, actually, because  Bev spends most of the night mingling with other employees, anyway. But when he does happen to spot them together — laughing together, exchanging amused glances, leaning over to wipe crumbs off of each other's shoulders — they look happy, too. 

Ben tries to tell himself that it's okay, that if anyone deserves happiness, it's Bev. He believes it, too, but he can't help but think about how maybe if he hadn't been such a coward, he could be happy with Bev tonight, too.

So Ben spends the majority of the night sitting with Mike at a table as far away from everyone else as he can find, and pretends like he's fine. It's not so bad, actually, because Mike is great company, even though he looks just as mopey as Ben feels, but won't elaborate on why. But then Mike gets up to find food and doesn't end up coming back, leaving Ben completely alone.

Finally, the moment comes where Bev has mingled with all the other employees, and slowly makes her way over to Ben, who’s now leaning against the wall and watching Richie try to convince Eddie to dance with him. Unfortunately for Ben, this moment comes after he’s already had two glasses of champagne, and he isn’t  _ drunk,  _ necessarily, but he’s not quite sober either, so there’s no telling how this will go.

“Hi, Ben,” Bev says, same warm smile as usual, and just like always, a part of Ben melts.

“Hi,” he says, and then clears his throat in an effort to sound less like a schoolgirl with a crush. “Um, having fun?”

“Of course,” Bev says, and then she leans against the wall next to him, like she intends to stay for a while. Ben blinks, surprised, because he's sure Bill is probably wondering where he is. But come to think of it, he hasn't seen Bill around for a while, so he doesn’t say anything.  “How about you? Are you having fun?”

“Of course,” Ben echoes back.

Bev lifts one eyebrow. “Oh? Is that why you’re hanging out in this dark corner all by yourself, then?”

The thing about Beverly Marsh is that she knows everything. Privately, Ben thinks that she knows  _ him  _ most of all, but that's probably the champagne talking. 

Awkwardly, he clears his throat.  “Well, it’s not like I had a date.” A look crosses Bev’s face that he doesn’t quite recognize, so he quickly changes the subject. “Besides, I was hanging out with Mike earlier, so I’m not  _ completely  _ lonely. By the way, is something going on with him? Because he’s been a little mopey all night.”

Bev frowns, and Ben realizes he’s been rambling. He always talks too much when he drinks. He clears his throat and looks back to where Richie is now dancing with Eddie/serenading him to “All I Want For Christmas Is You.” Eddie is huffing at him in that annoyed way he always does, but he's also blushing, and smiling fondly at him, so Ben doesn't think he minds it all that much.

“They’re cute together, right?” Ben asks her.

Bev follows his gaze and smiles. “Yeah, they are,” she agrees. “I was wondering when that was going to happen.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure Stan and Bill had a bet going.  Speaking of Bill,” says Ben, who is apparently a glutton for punishment, “Where is he, anyway?”

“With Mike, I think. Why?”

“I don’t know. Shouldn’t you be with him?”

He doesn’t say it in a judgmental tone, because it’s an honest question, but Bev blinks all the same. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t you have a date?”

Now it’s Ben’s turn to be surprised. “What?”

“I mean, you’re the only person here without one,” she says gently.

“Mike is single, too,” Ben points out weakly.

Bev just shakes her head. “I know, I just — I mean, you’re a great guy, Ben, and anyone would be lucky to have you. And you've seemed kind of down recently, and you're here alone, even though by all means you should have women knocking down your door.” Ben's face burns, and Bev smiles a little. “I guess I'm just trying to figure out what's going on with you.”

By all logic, this is not the right moment. The Non-Denominational Holiday Party is here, Bev came with someone else, and Ben has missed his chance. But there’s champagne buzzing under his skin, and Bev looks breathtaking beneath the Christmas lights, and Ben is tired of pretending.

So he says, “I don't have a date because the person I wanted to ask came with someone else.”

Bev stares at him in silence for a long time.

“Oh,” she finally says, in a faint voice.

It’s not the worst reaction he could get. When he’s imagined this scenario before, he’s pictured reactions far worse. But it’s definitely not the reaction he was hoping for.

“Look I — ” Ben stammers, and Bev is still staring at him with an expression he isn't quite sure he recognizes, so like a coward, he looks down. “I know this will make things weird, because we work together, and maybe I shouldn’t be saying any of this at all, but...I really like you, Bev.”

“Ben…”

“I like you a lot, actually, and I have for a while. And maybe that’s weird, and maybe I shouldn’t say that if you’re here with Bill, but because it’s Christmas, and at Christmas you tell the truth, I...I don't know. I felt like you needed to know.”

When Ben finally feels brave enough to look back up at Bev, her expression hasn’t changed. But when their eyes meet, a smile slowly begins to cross her face. “Did you just quote  _ Love Actually  _ at me?”

To Ben’s surprise, he feels himself start to smile, too. “Yeah, I guess I did, huh?”

Bev snorts and shakes her head. “Ben. I’m not...Bill and I aren’t together.”

“Oh,” Ben says. “But I thought he asked you to — ”

“He did,” Bev says. “But it’s not like that. Truthfully, I think he just didn’t want to go without a date.” Then she glances around, and leans in closer and whispers, “And I think he maybe wanted to get Mike’s attention.”

“Oh,” Ben says again.

“So, yeah. Bill and I aren’t together.”

“Oh,” Ben says, now for the third time. Believe it or not, he once thought of himself as a poet. “Well, that’s. That’s good.”

Bev laughs, and Ben finds himself laughing, too. They're still chuckling when they lean back against the wall again, watching their friends on the dance floor. Richie and Eddie have evidently switched partners, because now Richie is dancing with Patty, and Eddie and Stan are dancing together while simultaneously making fun of how terrible of a dancer Richie is. He feels happy, watching them — genuinely happy, because even though he came here alone, he loves these people, so much, and they deserve this kind of happiness more than anything.

“By the way,” Bev says suddenly, and Ben turns to her. She doesn’t look back, still watching their friends, and it could be a trick of the light, but Ben almost thinks she’s blushing. “If you’d asked me to be your date, I would’ve said yes.”

It feels like the floor drops out from beneath him, but in the best way. “Yeah?”

Finally, Bev looks back at him. She’s smiling, and her eyes have that unrecognizable expression in them, the one Ben was never brave enough to name. He thinks maybe he's starting to get braver, because he's almost sure it's the same way he looks at Bev when he knows she's not paying attention.

“Yeah,” she says.

“Okay. Cool,” Ben says, lamely. Bev snorts. “So, if I asked to kiss you right now. Would you also say yes to that as well, or…”

Bev smiles, amused this time. “Yes.”

“Okay,” Ben says with a nod, and then he kisses her.

It's been an embarrassingly long time since he kissed anyone. Like, seriously, so long that he doesn't even want to name how long it's been. So maybe he's just out of practice, but Bev's hands are gently clutching his Christmas sweater, and his hands are in her hair, and when they break apart Bev is still smiling at him, so Ben thinks it's the best kiss he's had in a long, long time.

"HEY!" Someone calls from afar. Ben doesn't have to look over to know that it's Richie. "DID YOU GUYS JUST MAKE OUT?"

"Shut the fuck up, Richie." That would be Eddie. "Let them have their moment."

But Richie is already running over to them, dragging Eddie along, and Ben steps back, hoping his face isn't as red as it feels. "Are you kidding? I've been planning this for _months._ "

"You have _not,_ " Stan says with an eye-roll, because apparently the whole office has now decided to crowd around them.

"Yes I have!" Richie insists. "I've been trying to tell Ben to ask Bev to be his date to this for _months,_ and he wouldn't listen to me. Bet you feel like a real dumbass now, huh, Ben? People should just listen to me more often."

"Oh, leave them alone," Bill says, even as he walks towards their group. Interestingly, Ben notices that he's hand-in-hand with Mike, who has a bashful smile on his face that is admittedly, _very_ cute. "Don't make them feel bad by taking all the credit."

"Like it wasn't your idea to make a bet on how quickly they'd get together," Stan says with an eye-roll. "Which, by the way, getting together at the Non-Denominational Holiday Party counts as getting together before Christmas, so. Pay up."

Bill grumbles as he fishes out his wallet, and Ben gapes at them. "You guys had a bet on us?"

"Uh, yeah, and why wasn't I involved in this?" Richie asks, almost pouting.

"Because it coincided with our bet on how long it would take you and Eddie to get together," Stan says as Bill hands him a twenty. Richie turns scarlet. "Which is another bet I won, if I'm not mistaken."

Bill grumbles again, but dutifully hands Stan another twenty, and Stan beams.

Ben, speechless, looks down at Bev, who looks like she's trying very hard not to laugh. "I can't believe this," Ben says finally.

Bev does laugh now, shaking her head. "Me neither." 

"You guys are the worst," Ben tells them.

Richie grins and slings an arm over Ben's shoulder, ruffling his hair. "That's a lie. You love us and you know it."

Ben looks around at the six of his coworkers, who get on his nerves almost every day but also are so loyal and filled with nothing but the best intentions. And then he looks at Bev, who is kind and hardworking and understands him like no one else ever has. He never thought he'd get this in life — this group of weirdos who have never been anything but supportive. He feels nothing but impossibly lucky to have them.

"Yeah," Ben says, still looking at Bev, and he smiles. "I guess I do."

Bev just beams back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> for more screaming over benverly, reddie, and the clown movie, follow me on twitter @scoopstroops


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